


The Thottie Requests Master Fic Take 2

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon, F/F, G!P, G!P Clarke, G!p Lexa, Ghost Sex, Jealousy, Library Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Some Fluff, canonverse, one dick at a time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7042018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of prompts from twitter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Call The Campus Police, Lexa, idgaf.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The G!P Thotties](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+G%21P+Thotties).



> I accidentally deleted the Thottie fic! I'll do my best to reupload everything. Sorry y'all. This is for the fam.
> 
> "G!P Clarke and librarian Lexa." - Anonymous Thotties

Clarke taps her highlighter against her forehead, only partly focusing on her textbook. She's waiting really. For her.

"The hot librarian," as Clarke referred to her in her mind even though she's read her name tag dozens of times. Clarke had successfully managed to convince her two days ago to make out in the reference stacks on the sixth floor, but is still trying to get into to her pants. Or skirt as it would be today. Today is going to be different. Clarke was using her secret weapon.

She spots Lexa out of the corner of her eye and feels her nerves spike a bit. Lexa is putting away books on the bottom shelf and it's the most provocative sight Clarke has ever seen. Her tight tweed skirt is hugging her ass like a glove, her high heels showing off toned long legs, light brown hair falling like a curtain around that gorgeous face. What Clarke would give to see her own come all over that face. She will soon if her plan works.

Today is going to different because Clarke's isn't wearing her usual discrete pants. She's in baggy sweatpants and thin boxer shorts, and her dick outline is about as visible as possible.

When Lexa straightens up, she glances over at Clarke with a small smirk. The way she pushes her glasses back up her face somehow makes Clarke's dick jump. Clarke steels her resolve and walks over to her.

"Hey Clarke," Lexa whispers, "How'd that paper go?"

Clarke wracks her brain then remembers their conversation last week.

"That was an elaborate lie to get you to spend time with me."

Lexa just cocks her head to the side and narrows her eyes. She had guessed as much when Clarke seemed less interested in the books about the French Revolution Lexa was showing her and more into the way she climbed the wheeled latter to the very top shelf.

"Why didn't you just say that?"

Clarke giggles softly.

"I have been for weeks. And the truth is I want to do more than just spend time with you."

"Like what, Clarke?" Lexa whispers.

Clarke points her eyes down at her own crotch and grabs her length over her sweatpants for emphasis.

"What I really want to do is dick you down so hard you have to use a wheelchair to get around this library."

Lexa blushes deep then darts her eyes around their surroundings, licking her lips as she glances back to what Clarke's not so shyly holding.

Clarke steps up into Lexa's space, hot breath in her ear.

"Reference stacks? In five minutes?" Clarke asks lowly.

Lexa shakes her head no and shoves a book from her cart into Clarke's chest. She's gone before Clarke even has a chance to take in the cover.

The Kama Sutra.

Twenty minutes on and Clarke sees her again. Lexa must feel her eyes on her, because she sways her hips more than usual. Clarke watches her push her cart into the backroom, and then she's bouncing her knee fast under the table, twirling her pen in her fingers.

Clarke counts to ten, then launches from her seat, almost running to the backroom. She pushes the swinging door open and heads for the very back where it's dark and quiet.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be in here!" some haggard old lady hisses. Clarke just flips her off without sparing her a glare and speed walks on.

Lexa's waiting for her, a half annoyed half pleased look on her face. Her arms are crossed over her chest, leaning back onto the concrete wall.

"Took you long enough," Lexa breathes out.

Clarke doesn't speak just presses into Lexa, sure hands hooking under each thigh to hoist her up. Legs lock around her waist as Clarke bunches the skirt around her hips and kisses behind her tiny ear and down to her neck, trying and failing not to suck obvious marks into the sweet smelling skin.

Clarke's been rock hard since she saw Lexa walk back here, and as Lexa grinds down needily onto her straining bulge she gets even more ready.

Lexa's hands find Clarke's member and pulls it out into the open while Clarke is pushing her wet lace panties to the side.

Clarke kisses her hard, pressing her firmly into the wall as Lexa lines her up at her entrance. Her pink head slips in and Lexa lets out a quiet moan. They break and Clarke rests her forehead in Lexa's cleavage as she continues to push into velvety tightness. Once she's fully inside, she feels hands on either side of her face urging her to look up.

"We have fifteen minutes, and if you don't make me come hard, I'm calling campus police," Lexa says shakily. Clarke nods mutely and starts pumping into her. Lexa's head thumps back into the walls and Clarke pops the buttons open on her blouse.

Sucking a deep purple mark into the skin just above her lace bra, Clarke starts moving her hips with no regard for human life. She's slamming into Lexa hard and fast, and the woman in her arms is tearing up, staring down at her with her mouth hanging open, strangled groans coming out with heavy breathes. Clarke kisses her again to shut her up.

She's hitting the spots Lexa's needs her to with ease, hands on her full ass to hold her up. Lexa's nails are clawing into her neck and shoulders. She's scrambling for purchase and starting to meet Clarke's hard upward thrusts. Taking a fast glance at the clock on the other wall, Clarke slips her fingertips over Lexa's throbbing clit. She rubs circles there, and Lexa almost screams before Clarke clamps her other hand over her mouth to muffle her. She can feel Lexa shaking, and goes in for the kill.

She pulls almost all of the way out then drives forward so forcefully that the lamps falls off the table next to them. The shade falls off and Clarke gets a beautiful view of Lexa's neck straining, eyes screwed shut, hands scrambling everywhere across her own body, wetness dripping down her thighs. Lexa's coming harder than she expected, mouth hanging open in a perfect look of ecstasy.

Clarke lets go and Lexa lets out a long deep moan into her ear as she feels her release filling her. Knees hit the floor a half second later, high heels pressing into Clarke's back as she sucks Lexa's throbbing clit into her mouth, tongue flicking quickly. Hands pulls hard on blonde hair then clear liquid shoots onto her chin and drips down to the floor. It keeps coming as Clarke sucks harder.

"Fuuuck," she hears above her, and a clinched fist slams back into the wall. Clarke slows as her second release tappers off. Lexa slumps and her entire body goes limp. Clarke helps her down to sit on the floor in front of her. The kiss they share tastes like Lexa's pussy, and Lexa is humming into her mouth at the taste.

Slow minutes pass then Lexa is cradling her face, pulling back with heavy lidded eyes.

"Was it good or shall I call campus police for you?" Clarke laughs.

"Shut the fuck up you smug asshole," Lexa giggles with a soft punch to Clarke's shoulder. Mocking a scoff, Clarke pretends to be hurt then wraps her arms around Lexa tight, presses kiss everywhere her lips can reach.

She pulls back when Lexa stops scratching at the blonde baby hairs at the top of neck.

"Let me buy you dinner?" Clarke asks shyly.

Lexa gives her a throaty laugh and nods.

"Come on, Clarke. I have a reference book I think you might like," Lexa whispers and Clarke knows exactly what she means.


	2. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "awesome prompt for a sex tape" - Thottie PR Official  
> AN: This prompt fucked me up, I hope I do it justice.

The first thing Lexa feels when she wakes up is a handful of blonde hair and soft breathing on her chest. The second is a lack of sensation down her right leg. Clarke seems to have slept for hours with her body slung over hers. The third is an exceptionally full bladder.

Lexa gently and slowly pulls away from Clarke and slips her pillow into searching arms. Clarke lets out a grunt of frustration in her sleep and rolls over with her face buried into the scent clinging to the pillowcase.

Feet moving from the carpet to the cold tile, Lexa flips up the toilet seat, rolling her shoulders, hand coming to muffle a giant yawn. Out the window dawn is beginning to paint the sky. She can get a couple more hours in at most before her alarm wakes them both. Setting the seat back down and washing her hands, Lexa turns to flop back into bed. Instead she gets stuck.

Deep purples and blues are playing across the curve of Clarke's spine through the window. From her jutting shoulder blades to the plains of her ribs down the sharp valley leading to flared hips dotted with two dimples just above where the sheets are bunched up. The air hums and Lexa is wide awake. 

Fingers itching, Lexa moves to kneel on the bed beside the sleeping form. She watches a tousled lock of blonde hair blown back and forth as Clarke breathes. With a feather light touch, Lexa trails her fingertips from the base of her neck slowly down each bone in her back. Clarke flexes back into the touch, and when Lexa looks up sleepy blues eyes are looking back at her.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Don't be," Clarke rasps, "Just keep touching me."

Headlights illuminate Clarke's face for a fraction of a second, and Lexa straddles her hips, hands retracing their path with more purpose this time. She leans down to place a kiss to the base of Clarke's neck, and time seems to have stopped even as the purples and blues that bathe them are joined with deep red. Smooth creamy skin goes on forever and Lexa feels it humming in response to her touch.

Orange pushes out the purple in the sky as Lexa's hands begin to venture lower moving the sheets aside. Clarke gives a soft sigh as Lexa cups her ass in both hands. The whole situation has Lexa incredibly excited, so she takes a hand and guides her length between the area her hands had just claimed. She tears her eyes away from the sight to meet eyes with Clarke. She's watching attentively over her shoulder, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

Knees spread wide to either side of Clarke's closed thighs, Lexa pushes inside. She doesn't hold back her breathy moan as Clarke gives a audible gasp. A few short strokes, then Lexa sees Clarke grab for her phone.

"Mood music again?" Lexa ask with a harder thrust.

Clarke just shakes her head and positions her front facing camera to record the movement of Lexa's generous hips. Each hard snapping thrust is signaled by a grunt from Lexa that Clarke prays her microphone is picking up. She's slow on the backstroke, her head rubbing deliciously against Clarke's walls, eliciting breathy moans when it's angled just right.

Clarke can see her own pink tinged face in the camera, open mouthed lazy smile, her ass bouncing with the force of Lexa's movements, one tattoo covered arm bracing Lexa above. Each thrust is met with increasing volume as the sun breaks the sky line, illuminating Lexa's furrowed look of concentration. Unexpectedly, Lexa looks straight into the camera as she puts all her strength into a devastating punch of her hips.

Clarke is arching back, taut as a bow, eyes screwed shut, Lexa finally giving in and rutting into her spasming wetness fast, dark eyes burning into the camera lens. The phone manages to capture both looks of exhilaration as the pair come hard with drawn out groans. Lexa's hips slow as she continues to empty herself, Clarke's head flopping down almost comically.

When Lexa returns to her senses, she pulls out, presses another kiss to Clarke's now sweaty neck. For her part, Clarke can barely lift her arm far enough to press stop on the recording. The sun is a bright yellow semicircle over the treeline Lexa notices, turning to collapse into the mattress. She looks to their bedside clock. One hour until she has to be anything to anyone but Clarke.

With that comforting thought in mind, Lexa rolls her body inward on the exhausted blonde beside her, pulling her in close for some well deserved cuddling.


	3. Heda Pauna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i mean they really want gp clarke with messy bottom lexa in canonverse" - Thottie PR Official

"Your stance is wrong. Again," Lexa sighs.

"I don't need a stance, Heda. I've got a gun."

"And only a handful of bullets, Clarke." She had been about to call Clarke Wanheda, but caught herself in time. She knew that was not a pleasant name for either of them to hear.

"If you were facing down another pauna, you'd want a gun," Clarke huffs as she circles Lexa, sword held in a defensive posture.

Lexa deflects Clarke's charge like she's not even bothered.

"I could kill a pauna without a gun," Lexa scoffs.

Clarke drops her weapon and actually snorts in laughter.

"Lexa, that pauna would be the new Heda if I wasn't there. It wouldn't have even felt your sword."

Lexa tosses her sword aside and stalks off back to her tower. Clarke rolls her eyes and follows at a distance. Always moody about something. It really amazed Clarke that Lexa was somehow older than her. The sun was setting over Polis and the shops were closing up for the day. Clarke watched as Lexa bent down to talk to a group of children, stopped to buy a piece of bread from a vendor. It was heartwarming and sad at the same time. Lexa had no real childhood to speak of, probably why she was moody sometimes.

Clarke took the manual elevator after Lexa and exited at the very top. Lexa's bedroom door was flanked by guards. As usual they simply nodded respectfully as Clarke as she passed. Forgoing a knock, Clarke waltzed in, slamming the door behind her hard enough to crack a pane of glass.

"I told you Titus, I'm not in the fucking mood," Lexa spat out as she lifted her sweat soaked top over her head.

"You're not in the mood to fuck?" Clarke asked cheekily.

Lexa turned and threw her balled up shirt at Clarke's face.

"Rude," Clarke said as she threw it right back.

"Leave me, Clarke," Lexa replied, throwing her hand in the air.

"No." The situation was escalating fast.

"No? You dare defy me?" Lexa had her hand on her dagger in its sheath, exposed chest heaving.

"Yes, because in five minutes I'm going to have you sobbing over how good my cock feels inside your pussy."

"Get out," Lexa snarled in her most commanding tone.

Clarke made her way forward, hands undoing her belt, untying the front of her pants.

"You shouldn't say things you don't mean, Lexa. It might make things difficult."

Clarke gets the reaction she had been looking for, a glance down at her own crotch, a visible swallow, and a moment of hesitation.

"Bed. Now. Clothes off," Clarke orders.

Lexa is face up and naked by the time Clarke reaches her, stroking her hardness as she crawls up the massive bed. Clarke reaches her face and ghosts a kiss to the corner of her lips.

"Let me take care of you, fuck the frustration out of you," Clarke husks, hands massaging pert breasts.

"How do you plan to do that if you're the cause of the majority of my frustration? You and your asshole friends."

Clarke tsks and lets her dick tap Lexa's clit twice.

"Those are your people too, Lexa."

"Maybe it's time I killed some of my own people for a change," she whispers, her war paint smudged with sweat and dirt.

"What did I say about saying things you don't mean?" Clarke asks as she pushes her pink head inside with little to no preamble.

"I-" a deep breathe as Clarke starts a slow rocking motion into her, sliding in more each time, "You're right Clarke. Your people are my people."

"I usually am," Clarke smiles and gives Lexa a tender kiss.

Long lean legs wrap around Clarke's waist and pull her impossibly deeper inside Lexa's throbbing wetness. Clarke sighs deeply as Lexa starts to suck a lovemark into her neck. It was no secret what they got up to in private, public if they couldn't help it.

Short nails are cutting into the skin on Clarke's ass as Lexa urges her faster. A soft plop and Lexa releases the already deep purple-red mark. Clarke rests her forehead against Lexa's and kisses the tear track from the corners of her eyes. She's rocking back and forth at a quickening pace, and it's getting real for Lexa. It always does.

"I love you," Lexa whispers like the truth might break her.

Clarke kisses the fear from her lips, replacing it with hope and love.

"I'll love you to the end of my days, Lexa," Clarke says as she pulls back.

She can feel Lexa's on the verge, so she gives the permission she knows Lexa needs.

"Let go, Lexa. I'm here. I'm not leaving you again."

Lexa comes undone with a silent sob, body going rigid in Clarke's arms. She shakes then Clarke feels herself being pulled in deeper than she thought possible, tight muscles coaxing out everything Clarke has to give.

They huff hot breath into each others open mouths, dazed and overcome with every feeling at once. Clarke brushes a couple of errant curls to the side and kisses the woman she loves deep and long.

It's a minute before Clarke is soft again and pulls out of Lexa, who lets out a whine of loss.

"Later," Clarke promises with a kiss to each high cheekbone.

Hours on over dinner they discuss what had really been bothering Lexa. They agree to work on a solution tomorrow after training. To Clarke's great surprise, Lexa had asked for Clarke to train her in the use of handguns.

"For the next time I meet a pauna," Lexa had smiled.


	4. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G!P Clarke gets jealous and a bit possessive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leo, I'm sorry this took so long! For some reason writing this was like pulling teeth. Hope y'all enjoy it.

Clarke is eyeing the whole scene carefully from a dark corner, hood thrown over her face. The stool she's sitting on is rough wood and poorly made. It rocks side to side from each of its three legs as she shifts, arms crossed over her chest. It keeps her unbalanced and moving even as she attempts to be invisible.

She isn't supposed to be here. They'd murder her on the spot if she was seen, but she needs to be here. The situation isn't only dangerous for her, and there are risks Clarke is willing to take, that she must take.

Lexa is at the center of attention, attempting valiantly to convince her other ambassadors to accept the 13th clan. She's speaking in fast and impassioned Trigedasleng, but Clarke isn't listening. Eyes darting from sheathed sword to holstered war-axe to concealed dagger, she's prepared to spring at the slightest movement against their Heda. Tensions have been high for weeks, and this is a perfect opportunity for a coup.

The meeting ends abruptly, with that familiar annoyed raise of the hand from Lexa. Clarke ducks her head down as people exit the large meeting hall. One hulking man stays and Clarke has her hand on her gun as he approaches a visibly furious Lexa. Clarke catches the word "weakness" and her own name. He's circling her, moving closer with each step. Lexa seems hesitant, like she would have disposed of this buffoon already if she didn't need him. Then he's sneering down into her ear from behind, and that changes things.

Blood boiling, Clarke launches herself forward as he reaches for Lexa's hips. Clarke's twisting his arm hard behind his back the next moment, boot kicking hard at the back of his knee as Lexa jumps aside. She leans over his prone body, twisting and pulling as hard as she can on his thick arm, not stopping when she hears a sickening crack. Pistol barrel digging into his temple, Clarke snarls down. Hoping for a reason to kill him, praying for it, her adrenaline spikes and her ears are thumping with her own heartbeat.

"Clarke, you can't do that," Lexa says harshly. Not tearing her eyes from the screaming man, Clarke shakes her head and eases off the trigger a fraction.

"Why? Is he important to you?"

"Not anymore than the others," Lexa says and Clarke's rational brain believes her. The other part of Clarke is demanding that she pull the trigger so that this piece of scum can never disrespect Lexa again.

They both look up at at the sound of passing footsteps outside the door. Clarke brings a heavy boot down hard, gets a crunch of nasal bone and a splatter of blood on her pants for her troubles. Hand gripping tight on Lexa's bicep, she leads her out into the cool night air.

Clarke nearly tears down the opening flap of the Commander's tent, and Lexa looks confused by the whole ordeal.

"Clarke, what the fuck?" she shouts, but Clarke doesn't answer just moves two steps closer.

They stare each other down for a moment, then Lexa sees the hunger in dark blue eyes. She knows what this is about, and her hands grab fistfuls of Clarke's jacket, driving them together. The kiss isn't kind. Clarke drives Lexa's back into the wide wooden column in the middle of the tent with enough force to shake it. Clarke is clawing at metal buckles and Lexa's ceremonial armor. Heavy clattering sounds as it falls to the packed earth.

Clarke tastes iron, her teeth dug into Lexa's plump bottom lip. Hands are struggling to undo the front of her pants. A rip sounds and her length bounces free. Lexa swallows her small gasp as cold air rushes around the sensitive head.

Clarke pulls back and waits. Lexa gives her the smallest nod, and then Clarke's pulling long legs around her waist guiding her hardness to slick heat. Pushing forward, she sucks a harsh mark into the soft skin where collarbone meets long elegant neck.

Lexa's eyes roll back and her head smacks back against unforgiving oak wood. The pace is slow, but each snap of Clarke's hips is more punishing than the last. Lexa lets out a strangled cry of her lover's name, one hand clutching at her scalp, the other arm wrapped around the wooden column to ground herself. Clarke's inhales and exhales are hot air in her ear, loud grunts as she pounds, fingernails digging into the soft skin of Lexa's ass.

Clarke can feel fluttering from her base to tip, hears cries of ecstasy. She's being sucked into the furthest reaches of Lexa's core, and it's short minutes before she's fighting off her own release. Lexa's scream of pleasure rents the thick air. Holding sweaty skin close, Clarke softens her thrusts while Lexa floats down from her high. A soft kiss from slightly bloody lips, then Clarke's moving fast, turning Lexa roughly around.

The sight presented to her as the tattooed back arches is dripping delicious pink. She pushes back into it, tight hold on wide hips, then lets herself go completely. Clarke pours every ounce of strength she has into her movements, the pit of her stomach foretelling her own release. One hand reaches around to toy with Lexa's slippery clit. With the other she grabs a handful of brown hair, growls one word low and harsh.

"Mine."

Another long low breathy groan then Clarke hears what she needs to hear.

"Yours," Lexa chokes out, a second stronger orgasm rocking her, "I'm yours."

Clarke stills and stops fighting off the inevitable. Her body gives a shiver as she fills Lexa from behind. Their pants slow and heart rates decline. Clarke watches fascinated as she pulls out, their shared releases dripping out. She picks Lexa's spent body and lays them both down.

Later Clarke is drawing patterns onto bare skin, Lexa listening to her steady strong heartbeat. She apologizes for her fit of jealousy, but Lexa just hushes her quiet again, a habit that Clarke has grown to love.

"Just next time," Clarke gives a raspy chuckle that Lexa feels vibrate against her cheek, "try not to ruin my favorite pants."

Lexa leans up to give her a soft kiss, smiling into it.

"No promises."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit up @TurfBurned for request since everyone already seems to know I'm the one writing these.


	5. Clarke Griffin, a known fuckboy,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several of people asked for this prompt. This is fratboy/fuckboy Clarke with a gp. It gets both smutty and fluffy. Hope you enjoy it!

It's 2AM and Lexa's dorm room is dark. Covers pulled around her face, hand tucked under her chin, she's almost asleep. Her eyelids are heavy and she's about to drift off when the cellphone on her dresser vibrates and lights up. Lexa groans in frustration and picks it up.

**u up? ;)**

The sender is saved under the contact name "Clarke 'Fuckboy' Griffin", and she's really living up to the title now. Lexa taps out a quick reply.

**I am now, asshole. What do you want?**

Lexa watches the three bubbles as Clarke types, but she's met with a picture instead. It's a mirror selfie of course, Clarke holding her hard dick through tight boxer briefs.

**Unsolicited dick pics? Really Clarke? How many other girls did you send that same picture to?**

Despite herself, Lexa gets up and flips on her lamp. Sliding her glasses on, she waits for Clarke's reply.

**just u babe. i was thinkin about those shorts u wore today. barely covered ur ass. so sexy...**

Lexa would never admit it, but she had worn them for Clarke especially. In fact, she had dropped her Astronomy notes in front of Clarke on purpose as well.

At first Lexa had been repulsed by Clarke's overt advances. Half the dorm seemed to have taken a ride on her unusual piece of anatomy. After partnering together on a Molecular Biology lab though, Lexa had gotten a glimpse past Clarke's projected douchebag persona. She had been ridiculously sweet, walking Lexa from the library back to her dorm room, bringing her an extra donut to their shared 8AM classes, things totally incongruent with her reputation.

Playing hard to get was getting a bit old for Lexa, though Clarke seemed to have endless patience for it. She had noticed far fewer girls making the walk of shame from Clarke's dorm room in recent months and wondered if she had something to do with it.

Lexa runs her hands through her sleep mussed hair and makes her decision.

**I'm coming over.**

Clarke's leaning on the door frame waiting on her, the picture of confidence. One hand in her pocket slyly holding back her semi, the other bracing herself against the the entrance to her small dorm room. Lexa pushes past her, grabs Clarke's elbow and drags her inside. Clarke kicks the door shut, and Lexa storms to the far side of the room.

"I didn't think you were the booty call type, Lexa," Clarke laughs.

Lexa rolls her eyes at the joke as she crosses her arms.

"And I thought you were done sending me sexts in the middle of the night."

Clarke looks embarrassed and regretful for a moment, turns her head away and reaches for the door handle to let Lexa back out.

"Look, I don't mind it really," Lexa admits in a huff. Clarke can tell Lexa's at a tipping point so she just nods and releases the door handle.

"Honestly, your whole arrogant fake player persona is weirdly charming at this point."

Clarke smirks and quirks an eyebrow.

"A fake player? Are you implying that I didn't set a campus record for most pledges banged during rush week?"

Lexa uncrosses her arms and steps closer to where Clarke stands seemingly nonchalant, though the hand in her pocket is gripping tighter.

"Yes, I am. Because I know you spent rush week in this room jerking off to the thought of what you want to do to me," Lexa challenges and she places one hand on the door next to Clarke's head.

Clarke opens her mouth to deny this unfounded accusation, to list her many epic sexual encounters that week, but comes up empty. Lexa's right. Hell, she had already been stroking herself to the thought of those full lips replacing her own hand when she got Lexa's "I'm coming over" text. Now those same lips her inches away, goading her to make a move.

"Fuck what I wanna do to you," Clarke says dismissively, regaining some of her usual smoothness and placing a hand on Lexa's waist.

"Tell me why you're standing in my room in the middle of the night looking like you want to eat me alive. Tell me what you need."

Lexa lets her eyes linger on Clarke's lips for a long moment, then she reaches for her elbow and tugs out the hand Clarke had been using to cup herself. The way Lexa holds her hand and walks her to bed is almost loving, but Clarke can see fire behind her glasses as she sits on the mattress, her pants making an obvious tent.

Clarke feels fidgety, out of her element, and seriously uncomfortable with the amount of control Lexa is wielding as she stands in front of her. Lexa makes a show of taking off her glasses and setting them on the messy desk.

"What I need," Lexa says slowly as she pulls her sweatshirt over her head.

Clarke's mouth falls open. There's a topless Lexa in her room ordering her around. She's wanted this for so long that it doesn't seem to be real. Lexa shimmies out of her shorts and underwear and finishes her sentence.

"Is for you to follow through on that promise you made last time you drunk texted me."

Clarke nods mutely and rids her self of her own shirt and bra. Lexa kneels on the carpet in front of her and starts rubbing distracting circles onto her sweatpants covered knees.

"Do you remember that text, Clarke?"

Searching her lust clouded memory as fast as she can, Clarke swallows.

"I said," a deep breath as Lexa's hands move up her thighs, "That I'd give you the best night of your life, that we could go all night."

The line sounds unbelievably corny spoken out loud, but Lexa's pulling off her pants and Clarke couldn't care less.

Lexa doesn't reply, just shoves Clarke's back into the mattress, swings a leg over her hips. As much as Clarke is thrilled at what's happening, something in her mind tells her to stop.

"Wait," Clarke breathes out, hands gripping Lexa's thighs.

Lexa looks confused, almost hurt, so Clarke rushes to clarify.

"Are you sure you want to do this right now? I mean I could take out to a movie and dinner if you want?" she rushes out.

Lexa actually smiles, leans in and kisses Clarke's pink tinged cheek.

"You don't have to prove to me that I'm not just another conquest or notch on your bedpost, Clarke," Lexa smiles as she tucks away a stray lock of blonde hair.

Clarke leans up onto her elbows and gives her a genuine smile, not the usual cocky grin.

"How about we take it slow tonight, then I'll buy you dinner this weekend?"

Lexa barely contains her eyeroll. She moves her hips to run her wetness across Clarke's length where it's laying heavy and hard on her lower stomach. Clarke gives her a small grunt and watches transfixed, hands gripping tighter on Lexa's hips.

"How slow is slow, Clarke?"

The filthy look Lexa is giving her causes Clarke to surge up press a series of kisses to her mouth starting gentle, but quickly turning into a wet meeting of tongues. Arms moving slowly up and down Lexa's back, Clarke pulls back and sighs happily.

"This," she nods down to her erection pressed between the two of them, "Isn't going away anytime soon," A smug appreciative look from Lexa's smooth stomach, her breasts still heaving, back to her blown pupils, "And I can feel how wet you are."

Lexa swallows hard and nods. Her hips give an involuntary jerk forward, rubbing herself against Clarke's hardness.

"How about..." Clarke falls back onto her elbows taking in the sight in front of her. Lexa has one hand on her pale stomach and the other dangerously close to her dick.

"You ride me?" Clarke husks out.

"Oh God, yes," Lexa whispers as she lift her hips and lines Clarke up.

The feeling of Clarke slowly entering her has Lexa throwing her head back and making breathy noises that Clarke echoes back to her.

"Fuck, that stretch is delicious," Lexa says as she continues to drop her hips over Clarke.

"You feel fantastic around me," Clarke says and gives a small thrust upward. Finally fully inside, Lexa starts a tortuously slow roll of her hips. She's not holding back her moans any longer and Clarke is just staring open mouth, gripping her thighs for dear life.

Not even two minutes into watching Lexa work her body over her and Clarke already feels close. The way Lexa is straining her neck, the bounce of her breasts, her hand running through long brown hair and a single fascinating bead of sweat running down her chest, it's all got Clarke feeling tight and ready to explode

She moves one hand to rub at Lexa's clit, grabs a handful of ass with the other and starts pumping upward to meet Lexa's fast rolling hips.

She feels it before it hits Lexa's face, the clenching and fluttering around her length is the most wonderful thing she could have imagined. Lexa's body goes rigid above her, head thrown back, a long drawn out moan of Clarke's name directed at the ceiling.

Clarke can't help but fall over the edge with her, eyes screwed shut and Lexa's name on her lips.

 

Lexa wakes up in an unfamiliar bed the next morning, her face planted into a warm shoulder, Clarke's arm around her waist.

She doesn't have the heart wake Clarke up to say she has to leave for her 9:30 lecture, so she redresses and leaves a note on the whiteboard by the door.

****

I had fun last night. Text me later.  
Lexa

On her lunch break Lexa sees her phone light up with a message from Clarke, so she quickly unlocks her phone.

****

Dinner Friday at 8?

****

Both spend the rest of the school week grinning like idiots, thinking Friday can't come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Tess might have been the one to originally ask for this, but it was such a good prompt it took me a while to do it justice. Sorry for the wait!


	6. Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a remix of the non-g!p Ghost fic I wrote a while back. I wanted to wrap up this adventure with the prompt that seemed most popular. Yes, this is g!p ghost Lexa. Thanks to everyone who read this mess and provided me with great promts. Y'all are the real MVPs.

Clarke doesn't go after Octavia because she doesn't have the will to muster an even slightly convincing argument. She couldn't lie and say she wouldn't have done the same in Octavia's position. Clarke has walked away just the same in the past. As she watches the blood pool around Pike's body, Clarke realizes she envies Octavia. She wants revenge. She wants to make someone to feel deep pain and all consuming grief, even if it does nothing to expel her own. Who she doesn't know, maybe anyone would do. She's got a list a mile long full of people and decisions that caused the bullet to be fired.

On whom Clarke wants revenge she doesn't know, but for what she does. 

Guilt had weighed heavy on Clarke before today. But today she had seen her again. Felt her touch again, her kiss, her love. Her smile, that self-assured smirk, had been like coming home after long journey. Not long ago Clarke had stood in this same throne room, irritated and overprotective. She had received that same smirk then too. At the time Clarke had dearly wanted to wipe that cocky look off of her face, but now she'd gladly trade her life to live in that moment forever.

Clarke flinched at the feel of a hand on her shoulder on instinct.

"Clarke, it's just me," a calming voice said. Abby was the only one left in the throne room besides Clarke, not counting the lifeless bodies.

"Sorry," Clarke murmured rubbing her palms up and down her face, "I need some time alone."

Abby looked like she wanted to protest, but bit her tongue, nodded, and closed the door behind herself. Where everyone else had gone, Clarke didn't care to know.

Clarke sank back into the wooden throne and let her tears fall freely. Whatever victory she had achieved today felt hollow. Too much blood had been shed on all sides. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They had wanted peace, and sacrificed themselves for it. Only to fail.

"I'm sorry," Clarke half sobbed, eyes closed.

_Don't be._

Clarke's eyes flew open, searching the room for the source of that familiar voice. Though she couldn't see anyone, Clarke knew she wasn't alone. Her rational brain said it was impossible, but her heart repeated their parting goodbyes.

"Lexa..."

_I will always be with you._

Slouching forward in the throne, elbows on her knees and face in her hands, Clarke felt exhausted. Maybe she was experiencing a psychotic break, hallucinating. She needed to rest.

 

It only feels right to collapse onto the massive bed in the adjacent room, surrounded by candles that hadn't been lit in days. She removes her leather clothing and slips under the soft furs. Clarke tries to will her body to sleep. Her mind refuses to shut down, and her eyes feel raw from crying even while shut.

_Clarke._

Blue eyes open again at the sound of that faint voice, but this time they find what they so desperately seek. Lexa, kneeling beside the bed, a sad smile on her full lips.

"Lexa? How am I seeing you?"

_The how doesn't matter, Clarke. I'm here._

Hand trembling, Clarke reaches out and touches her face. Lexa nuzzles into it eyes fluttering closed. Her skin isn't cold, but it seems to be emitting a hazy glow. But maybe that's just the result of her tear blurred vision. Or perhaps it's the dozens of brightly burning candles that stood dark only seconds ago.

"I need you," Clarke croaks weakly, brow furrowed, looking as broken as she feels.

Lexa nods and stands, shedding her long coat, then slips under the furs as well. Clarke can feel her warmth through her dark tank top as she clings with all of her strength, face burrowing into soft brown hair and smooth skin. Clarke's tears are quieter now, but are still coming in a steady stream.

_Shhh. I'm so proud of you, Clarke._

Rubbing circles into Clarke's tired back with one hand, holding her head close with the other, Lexa pours all of her love out for Clarke to bare. It replaces the low boiling anger and sadness, and Lexa feels Clarke's body relax fully into her own.

After a few minutes, Clarke pulls her head back and looks into Lexa's eyes.

"I wanted to drag you through that door with me, I wanted to bring you back where you belong. Here with me. I should have..."

_I'm here now, Clarke. Feel me._

So Clarke does the only thing that makes sense. She kisses Lexa, hand wrapped around the back of her neck, and doesn't stop for anything.

When they break they're both panting, foreheads pressed together. Clarke can see that same look of wonder and exaltation Lexa had given her before everything went to shit. The thought sparks desperation inside of Clarke's chest, but then she's on her back and Lexa is kissing her again.

Clarke slips her hand up the tank top, but her fingers don't find a bullet wound, just tensing muscles as Lexa presses down into her naked body. Clarke breaks their kiss and turns her head to runs her lips to across Lexa's jaw. Her hands are working unsteadily at the closure of Lexa's pants.

Clarke watches open mouthed as Lexa pulls back onto her knees, ridding herself of her top. Candlelight glows on the unscarred revealed skin and Lexa leans back down. Her fingertips trace Clarke's lips, right hand bracing herself on the spot where she can feel a thumping heartbeat.

Hooking her arms around Lexa's shoulders, Clarke rises off the pillow to capture her lips again. She can feel her chest rising and falling quickly, as Lexa's fingers drift lower. Lexa presses Clarke back down into the bed her with her body.

"Please," Clarke begs.

Lexa let her fingers slip past short blonde curls into her lover's center. Pressing her head back into the pillow, Clarke works her own hand into the tight front of Lexa's pants. They both fight to keep the others gaze as Clarke grips around Lexa's hard shaft. She works her hand slowly to the tip, memorizing a part of this person she had thought was gone forever.

Feeling Lexa's precum on her fingertip, Clarke thinks that if this is madness she never wants to be sane ever again. Hot puffs of air on her face and her own building arousal keep Clarke grounded in the feel of Lexa on top of her.

_I love you, Clarke._

One tear escapes her eye, but Lexa is kissing it away before it can roll into blonde hair. Clumsily and with shaking hands, Clarke manages to push Lexa's pants, the last barrier to what she needs, down past her ass. Lexa looks down and takes a firm hold of herself, and when her eyes cut back up they pin Clarke to the sheets. There's hunger in her gaze, a deeper longing, amazement, and a hint of sadness that Clarke doesn't want to focus on, so she just nods frantically.

Lexa reaches up with her left hand to drag Clarke's right from where it's gripping her neck to lace their fingers together on the sheets. Their kiss is deep, and Lexa's tongue tastes as wonderful as Clarke remembers. The room tilts on it's axis and then Clarke feels Lexa pushing inside her. It's so much more than her memories could have prepared her for, and her legs lock around Lexa's hips forcing her deeper of their own volition.

Lexa is moving her hips in minuscule rocking motions, Clarke meeting each thrust with enthusiasm. Hyper-aware to everywhere their skin meets, Clarke lets go of her last feeble hold on reality. This has to be real. The tension in them both is reaching it's peak, and Lexa's rocking motion has changed into deep, powerful thrusts. Finally Clarke feels Lexa hit the spot within her that no one else could ever find, and it wrenches a high pitched whine of pleasure from her. Movements become frantic, chests begin to heave. Lexa is gripping her hand hard into the bed, the other reaches Clarke's jaw and pulls her to look her in the eyes. All Clarke can see in those dark green eyes is love, so she loses herself in them and pleasure washes over her.

_Clarke._

Neither looks away or closes their eyes, and they share their release with open hearts and quiet moans.

"Lexa," Clarke whispers after they both come down from the high. Lexa stays inside of her, and Clarke never wants her to leave, much less pull out.

Lexa soothes her with a gentle kiss and carefully rolls them onto their sides. Clarke burrows back into her as before, leg thrown over her hip and arm cradling her head. Lexa doesn't feel wet tears on her neck this time.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" Clarke mummers. Lexa feels it more than she hears it.

_Of course, Clarke._

Clarke lays there fighting to stay awake, afraid despite Lexa's reassurance. She can't lose her again. Not ever again.

 

When Clarke wakes her arms are empty and the candles have burned out, but she knows in her heart Lexa is there. Against all reason, Clarke believes it. She knows because her burden is so much lighter, like once again she has someone strong enough to bare it beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading again. I really had fun doing these prompts.


End file.
